Memory is an odd thing. The day to day bullshit slowly fades away until it leaves nothing behind but a vague “emotional” tone or color. A feeling. However, every now and then certain details, usually surrounding *intense* emotional times, stay

Gambit’s been taunting him all day. Taking cheap shots when no one’s looking. Sticking that damn bostaff in places it should never, *ever* be. Blitzing him with charged playing cards that mysteriously keep missing the intended target. *